


What's Your Emergency?

by artemisfawn



Category: Original Work
Genre: 911 dispatcher au, Abuse, F/M, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, no beta we die like men, this fic is basically really dark so dont expect nice things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 03:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisfawn/pseuds/artemisfawn
Summary: Out of all the things Axel Lea Sinclair didn't want to hear, this was top of the list.AU where Axel's a 911 dispatcher and handles a suicidal caller. Rating might change over time. Please read tags and notes before reading fic.





	What's Your Emergency?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chepsi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chepsi/gifts).



> Warning: This fic includes scenes of rape, graphic self-harm, abuse (including referenced child sexual/physical abuse), suicide attempts, anorexia, and using alcohol to cope. Each chapter will have a warning in the notes.
> 
> The Axel seen in this fic is an au formatted/personalized Axel, meaning he is slightly OOC. He belongs to Square Enix/Kingdom Hearts, but since he is a personalized/remade version and with an OC, I chose not to include it in the KH fandom tag. Please check this link to see the main OC used in this fic: (to be added)

"I'm going to kill myself."

Out of all the things Axel Lea Sinclair didn't want to hear, this was top of the list. 

* * *

Axel's not really sure how he got this job. Ok, that's a lie, he knew exactly how he got this job. He turned in an application, waved around his high school diploma, peed in a cup, etc.. The thing was, he didn't know  _why_ he got this job. Being a 911 dispatcher wasn't exactly what he'd call an "easy job." Hell, he has an Associates in music theory. But instead of studying sheet music or jamming out to REO Speedwagon, he's sitting at a desktop with an uncomfortable headset, waiting for the next caller. As a (self-proclaimed) attractive 21 year old, Axel should be partying or flirting with some hot blonde at a bar. Or smoking weed with his friends (not that he  _can_ anymore, the center does drug tests).

But nope. This is where his life has led him. This is where he spends his work hours. 

He can't really complain, it's a good job with decent pay, at least in the city of Hartz, Nevada. And usually, the people who call are serious and not prank callers or upset suburban housewives. Axel mentally launches off into his memories, remembering the call about the wife's "cheating bastard" of a husband, but he barely reaches the point where the wife calls him a "two-timing dick face" before his headset beeps, a warning that he has a call coming in. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. Reminds himself that it's a normal Tuesday and it's likely just a simple collision with no injuries. Those are easiest to handle. But when he presses the button and answers with the classic "911, what's your emergency," he gets a response that honestly makes him wish he took the day off.

"I'm going to kill myself."

Axel hardly knows how to respond. He feels frozen as the voice comes through, frozen as he tries to assess the situation. He knows it's a woman with a thick, likely British accent (he always gets Australian and British mixed up), actively suicidal. 

"Ma'am, I need you to talk to me. Stay on the line with me, I can get you help." He tries to remember the list of things to say that they give the employees, but he feels like time's stopped.

"I don't need help, I just wanted to inform you. I'm not too keen on having my body found by a child or something. Rather it be police." Well, at least the stranger is considerate.

"Ma'am, please just breathe, there is no reason to take your life. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?" He doesn't know what to do oh my god why doesn't he know what to do--

He waves frantically at the coworker to his left, raising 8 fingers, the designated code for an active suicide. The girl nods and begins typing, pressing her headset to listen in on the call as she does whatever it is she's doing. Axel honestly has no clue.

"I don't really think you need to know my name, I already have ID on my persons for corpse identification." That's so morbid that it chills his hands, making them pause on the keyboard.

"Why do you feel the need to take your life?" He's stalling now, honestly. His coworker is tracing the call off cell towers so all he has to do is stall until they can find the location and send EMS. 

There's a moment of silence and Axel feels his heart rate spike as his mind races through several (very bad) possibilities. Is she dead? Did he fail? He's rewarded, sorta, by a soft response.

"There's just... Nothing left here for me." The complete emptiness in the woman's voice shatters him for a moment. He should be used to traumatic calls and hard situations, but it's so much different when you're keeping them alive. He rubs his face and turns to his coworker. She gives him a thumbs up and points to her screen, where she's gotten an approximate location of where the caller is. But he still needs a building, a landmark, something to find the exact place. It's no good if they drive around the cell tower without knowing the building.

"Can I ask where you are? What building? Any landmarks nearby?" There's another beat of silence and he gets scared again, especially when he begins to hear shuffling over the line.

"Maybe I'm just... Why are you doing this? I understand it's your job, but why not just let me go?"

"Because we actually care about the people we receive calls from." Axel isn't sure if he actually believes what he's saying or not, but at this moment he means it. Sorta. It's complicated.

There's more silence.

"Look I... I'm sorry for wasting your time. I'll just. Go home I guess, I don't know. Today just doesn't feel like the day." He releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding. By now, they have GPS coordinates, so his coworker goes ahead and sends out some cars just in case, but he thinks this will be ok.

"Here, before you go-" He shuffles around his desk before finding the cheesy magnet on one of his drawers. "There's a suicide hotline that can find therapists in your area. I know it's not much, but they may be able to help you." He recites the number. It's better safe than sorry.

"Thanks. For not letting me die today." The caller hangs up with that awkward note and Axel's left to sink into his chair, rubbing his face, and contemplate whether or not this job is worth it.

His coworker gives him a squeeze on the shoulder and a proud smile.

It's worth it.


End file.
